


leave the soul alone

by Zippit



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4404593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippit/pseuds/Zippit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Duke's sixteen, life in Haven gets weirder and more complicated. It can be summed up in one word: soulbond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leave the soul alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShyWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyWriter/gifts).



> Thanks to roseveare for running this challenge!
> 
> Also, thank you to ShyWriter for the awesome prompts! I've only barely scratched the surface of the world here and feel like there will definitely be more to come. I only wish I could've made this longer for you.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Duke's sixteen, scrawny, limbs too long for his body, brown hair just this side of too long, and currently camped out in the alcove of trees he and Nathan had found last week on the cliffs overlooking Haven. The scent of fresh pine needles covers the metallic hint of copper blood spread into a medium sized stain on Duke's worn blue jeans. It's summer with the days not yet humidity soaked and the nights cooling enough to make up for the day so the black tank top he's wearing will hold him for now and if it doesn't he has a flannel shirt tucked away in a backpack hanging from a nearby branch.

The bark digging into his back has found one of the numerous bruises scattered along his skin and he shifts to get some relief. It's short lived as he hisses out a pained breath. Every inch of his body feels sore. Probably is sore. His mom's home and drunk off her ass. His dad's fucked off to who knows where and Duke? Duke's left to fend for himself like always. He thunks his head back against the tree trunk and stares into the sky heavily filtered through pine needles. Small sword blades jutting from the tree branches blocking out the cloud free sky above him.

Some people would say the woods are quiet, but not him. The woods are never quiet. The cawcaws of birds and the rustling of wind making the branches sway. No, it's never quiet. He'd still prefer to be out on the sea where water laps at the hull of a boat with the shush-shush of lullabies he's never heard. The thought of water reminds him his mouth's dry and he gropes for the bottle he'd sat on the ground beside him.

It's nothing but water and Duke wishes it was something stronger. Because on top of all the usual shit, he and Nathan had another falling out. About past wrongs, about who he was, about who Nathan was around him. Because it wasn't enough that Duke was going to be forever sorry about the things he did as a shithead little kid or that Duke dealt with more than Nathan would ever know about. No, Nathan was Garland Wuornos' son down to the arrogant, holier-than-thou attitude when it came to Duke.

Duke knows what it's like not to be loved, to fight daily just to live in his own house, unlike Nathan. He's known what CPS was since he was ten and realized that no one was going to save him in a town like Haven. When they looked at him like he'd turn rabid and bite them the first chance he got. When he felt more like himself out here in the wild or out on the water where no one could tell him what to do. Where the last name Crocker didn't mean anything but syllables on the wind or where he thought he might have somebody who saw beyond all that to who he really was, not a reputation, not a name, not anything but _Duke_.

He snorts and slams a fist into the ground as he shoves himself to his feet. It stung his split knuckles, shoved dirt into the creases of his hand. He looks down at his hand with distant interest before he smears it across his jeans, over the blood, to wipe it clean. It's not worth thinking about. Everything that was supposed to be his, everything that was supposed to matter, turned out not to be.

Self-defense, yeah right, no one's going to believe him. No one's going to believe that Crocker kid who's always getting into trouble. He has a pretty good feeling all the adults in the precinct know about his family situation, know exactly what he has to deal with day in and day out when he's not out there on his own, fending for himself. The Crocker name enough of a barrier to stay any hand willing to help him, except...for a long time ago Nathan's mother, Garland Wuornos' wife.

Duke shakes his head and paces to the edge of the clearing. He's high up on a cliff, overlooking the beach front far below, the dirt turning to gravel and pebbles under his shoes with the rolling cries of seagulls around him. It's always easier out here, simpler. He and Nathan can forget about the roles they're supposed to play and the memories splayed between them, strung in dirty lights over the years.

Nathan, fucking Nathan. Duke spits over the edge and kicks the largest rock he can find to follow. He watches it thunk off tree branches before spiraling out into space then cracking against the rocks below, tumbling to an unseen rest. It all comes back to fucking Nathan. Duke rubs the line of his collarbone on his left shoulder. You have to be looking for it, but in barely there script, Nathan's name is etched. The letters are raised like a brand but don't look it.

He's not sure _exactly_ when it appeared but he has a pretty good idea. Probably after that brawl with his mom's...whatever. It'd ended with shotgun shells scattered around his feet, a shot up car, and Duke extra glad he'd taught himself how to shoot and use a knife.

Soulbonds only appear when you're going through the shittest shit of your life. He has no idea why. It's almost as stupid as being born with them. Either way you're tied to something you didn't want and don't know if you'll ever find. Lucky him. Doesn't that just make his life perfect?

If he had his way, Nathan would never know, _is_ never going to know. Having a name appear on your skin doesn't mean the other person has the same. It's a fucked up way of doing things in Duke's opinion but what does he know? No one in Haven talks about it. It's not a big thing, something from legend that's more myth than anything else. So like usual he's left fumbling to figure everything out on his own. 

Fucking Nathan, fucking soulbonds, fucking _Haven_. He's getting out of this stupid town as fast as he can as soon as he can. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts, comments, or critiques are welcome.


End file.
